


Art Therapy

by debwalsh



Series: Art Therapy [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 22:25:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18397577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/debwalsh/pseuds/debwalsh
Summary: Steve Rogers has gotten permission to conduct an art therapy course with some of the Avengers.  But there’s more to Steve’s relationship with the Avengers than his students realize.Written for the Shrinkyclinks Fest 2019!  Special thanks to Mari_Knickerbocker for betaing!





	Art Therapy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mari_Knickerbocker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mari_Knickerbocker/gifts).



> This story is based on prompt #14: Avengers don't know how it happened, but Winter Soldier has a friend: an art student Steve Rogers. It takes the team embarrassingly long to realize that Steve is not 'just a friend'.
> 
> Bonus ideas: Steve hanging out in Tower/ Steve befriending Nat and Sam and others/ Bucky taking Steve to practise range to teach him how to use guns.
> 
> I hope the original prompter enjoys the spin I put on the idea!

A slender, blond-haired man hustled into the lounge with an enthusiastic air and a bristling energy. He set his satchel down, grinned broadly, and clapped his hands together.“Okay, so how was everyone’s weekend?” Steve Rogers, art therapy graduate student and frequent visitor to Avengers Tower, greeted everyone.Steve was approved to conduct his graduate practicum in art therapy with members of the Avengers, and he was also known to be an acquaintance of Soldat, the Winter Soldier. 

His graduate supervisor, a middle-aged man with a surprisingly large ginger handlebar mustache, Tim “Dum Dum” Dugan, followed him in and nodded a greeting to the “students.” Then he withdrew, sat down at the far end of the seating area, and crossed his arms over his chest, to observe.

“Well, you know, saving the world,” Natasha Romanova shrugged from her spot on the couch. 

“Getting shot at by the bad guys,” Sam Wilson added with a yawn, stretching slightly at the other end of the couch.

“Crap food service.You’d think Stark could get us some decent catering on mission.Coffee sucked, man,” Clint Barton concluded, sucking another mug dry.

Sam and Nat’s heads both swiveled silently toward Clint, who smirked and shook his head.“Well, it did. I’m makin’ another pot - anyone want any?”

As Clint got up to start another pot, both of his teammates shuddered quietly.“Thanks, I’ll make my own damn coffee.That sludge you drink is gonna stop your heart someday, man.”

“I prefer tea,” Nat replied and then looked at Steve expectantly.“What about you, art therapy people?You feeling lucky?”

“I have to avoid caffeine,” Steve replied as he pulled out a big loose leaf folder and a hinged plastic box.“Tim?”

Dugan silently lifted the to-go mug with a national chain’s logo on the side.

“Suit yourselves,” Clint called as he worked the coffee maker. 

“So what wonders are you sharing with us today, Steve?” Nat asked, turned her attention back to him, although the several winces she let slip through her facade betrayed that her attention was still caught on Clint.

“Well, I thought we could start with something fun this time, Sugarlips,” Steve replied matter-of-factly as he turned to rummage in his bag.

“Sugarlips?” Nat mouthed to Sam, who was goggle-eying her, his eyes shifting back toward Steve nervously.

“And what would that be, Steve?” Nat sing-songed with deceptive sweetness.

Steve grinned broadly, brandishing a bright-colored box that announced finger paints, and a pad of finger paint paper.

“Oh, let me guess.Finger paints?”

“Yep!Ooshy-gooshy finger paints.They’re non-toxic, they don’t smell bad, and they’re fun!Let’s get in touch with your inner children, okay?Okay!”

“Works for me,” Clint commented, sipping from his coffee.“I like finger paints.”

“Good for you, Arrow Guy!Okay, so let’s get started - Birdbrain?” Steve asked, nodding toward Sam.

“Bird - no.You did not go there, little man,” Sam protested, tossing a glare in Steve’s direction.

Steve ignored Sam’s protests, instead handing out a box of finger paints and a pad of paper to each of them.Clint cradled his coffee and walked over to set it gently down on one of the work tables.Then he made grabby hands at Steve, who tossed him his own box of paints and a pad.He immediately went to work, opened the paint jars, and quickly had his hands covered in squishy primary colors.

“You’re such a child, Clint,” Nat observed with a shake of her head.

“Damn straight, Nat. This beats getting shot at any day of the week. Hey, can we paint on the walls?”

“I would request that you refrain from decorating the walls with your paints, sir,” JARVIS responded smoothly. 

Dugan started at that, staring around wildly to place the voice.

“Don’t worry, Dum Dum.That’s just JARVIS - he runs the place,” Steve said with a grin.

“Thank you, Mr. Rogers,” JARVIS replied, a faint chuckle in his voice.

“Now, what’d I tell you, JARVIS?It’s Steve.Just Steve.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay. Now we got that settled - no painting on the walls, Clint.I think we can include anything that’s not the paper I gave you, okay?”

“Ugh. You’re no fun. Okay,” Clint grumbled, but he spread the paper out in front of him and started transferring paint onto one of the sheets.

“Okay, Coffeebrain here gets it. Now you two - it doesn’t have to look like anything, just go with what feels right. Okay, Red? Wings?”

“Are you gonna let him get away with that?” Sam gritted under his breath to Nat, who just shrugged.

“Nothing he’s said has been truly objectionable.Besides, having him here makes Pepper happy.She thinks we need this,” Nat shook her head, making clear she thought Pepper was nuts.“I can handle my trauma just fine without some artsy fartsy therapy, thank you very much.”

“Uh-huh,” Sam responded in a flat tone, just as clearly indicating how much he didn’t agree.

Steve came around and peered over their shoulders, observing that both of them were actually doing something with their paints and paper.“That looks good. How does it feel?”

“Like somebody’s making me ruin my manicure with gooey paint. How ‘bout you, Sam? How’s it feel to you?” Nat asked with false brightness.

“Like I’m never getting this shit out from under my nails. Seriously, dude, what’s the point of this crap?”

“Did you two never do finger paints, seriously?” Clint called from where he was placing colorful handprints on sheet after sheet.

“The Red Room didn’t do finger paints,” Nat replied archly, and Clint made a face, mimicking her.

“What about you, Dodo?” Steve asked with a smile.

“‘Dodo’?Did you just call me ‘Dodo’?Did you just compare me to a flightless bird?An extinct flightless bird?Look, Steve, I know you’re here because Ms. Potts wants you here, but what the fuck, man?What’s with the stupid nicknames, huh? I thought you were a nice guy, but you’re really starting to piss me off -“

“I thought these were names you liked,” Steve answered reasonably, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Where’d you get that idea?” Nat asked, just as Clint answered.

“No skin off my ass. I am the Arrow Guy.And I’m totally Coffeebrain.But that doesn’t explain where you got these weird nicknames, Steve.”

“Hmmm,” Steve agreed, his expression thoughtful, then calculating.“Bucky told me.”

“Who the hell is Bucky?” the three of them responded in unison.

“Bucky. You know Bucky. He’s your teammate.”

“Pretty sure I’d remember if I worked with somebody named ‘Bucky’. Hey, is that the guy who does maintenance on the Quinjet?” Clint asked, signed one of his art pieces with his index finger, and ended with a flourish.“Ta fuckin’ da!”

“No.That’s Marco.Which sounds nothing like Bucky.No, is he one of Happy’s security guys?You know, the tall one with the limp?” Nat put in, clearly confused.

Sam shook his head. “That’s Fred.He’s a vet, he comes to one of my groups.Good guy.Nah, he’s that male nurse who works in the med center -“

Steve blew an exasperated raspberry.“None of you know who Bucky is!Geeze, no wonder you need art therapy.You can’t even be bothered to learn the first name of one of your own teammates.”

“Sorry, Steve, there is no one named Bucky.”

“Hmm.Hold that thought,” Steve replied, holding his finger up as he pulled out his phone.He connected quickly, and when whoever was on the other end answered, he greeted, “Hey, babe.Yeah, I’m here, I’m doing that art therapy thing with your teammates.Yeah. Hey, look, could you come up here?Yeah, the lounge level.There’s something I need to go over with you, okay?Five minutes, great.See ya in a bit, doll.”

“So this ‘Bucky’ person is your girlfriend?”

“Boyfriend.You guys didn’t know?”

“Know what?”

“That I’m dating Bucky.”

“Steve, honey, none of us know who Bucky is, and we’re not in the habit of checking up on people’s love life unless it impacts a mission.Which yours doesn’t.No offense.”

“None taken.But I’m not so sure about my love life not impacting a mission is entirely accurate.I mean, he’s a lot more relaxed now he’s tapping this,” he pointed out, patting his own ass.“He says he’s more effective in the field now we’re together.Says he’s got a reason to come home, y’know?”

Just then, the elevator dinged, revealing the Winter Soldier, Soldat, dressed in black leather with lots of straps and buckles, his legs encased in heavy duty boots. He stalked across the space with his usual murder face on, and Nat half rose out of her seat.“Steve, you might want to come a little closer here.Like right now -“

Soldat came right up to Steve and smiled at him.The others exchanged confused glances that turned into slack-jawed shock when Steve then pulled him by his leather straps into a quick but clearly tongue-filled kiss.

“Um -“

“Really?”

“Fuck me!”

“Hey, babe.What’s up?” Soldat asked dazedly as Steve let him go and patted his leather clad chest.

“So, Buck, remember how you gave me some pointers on making the session more casual?”

“Uh-huh,” Soldat replied, his normally kill-you-before-he-looks-at-you face morphing into a smirk - a smirk!

Steve hauled off and punched Soldat in the nose; the crack! reverberated in the space.All three Avengers leapt to their feet, each of them reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there, and Dum Dum stepped forward, admonishing, “Steve, we talked about this.No fisticuffs while you’re running a session.”

Soldat was holding his nose, and blood seeped around his fingers.“Good one, Stevie. Your form is improving,” he said, his voice muffled behind both his hand and damaged nose.

The others made a move now to defend Soldat from Steve instead of the other way around, but Soldat held his hands up and shook his head. “It’s okay,” he told them, wiping the blood away from his nose with the back of his flesh hand. “I’ve been teaching Stevie here to punch, and since I heal fast, I’ve told him I don’t want him to hold back. See,” he rubbed at his nose again, and held up fingers that were dry. “I’m not even bleeding anymore.”

“You could have led with that. What the hell is going on?” Nat demanded, her eyes shifting back and forth between Steve and Soldat.

“You set me up, you fucker,” Steve pressed, glaring angrily at the man he just kissed, and then punched. He shoved a tissue into Soldat’s hand so he could clean up the remains of the blood on his face. “I ain’t kissing it to make it better ‘til you apologize.”

Soldat giggled.

The most fearsome assassin in the world, the ex-Fist of Hydra, the Winter Soldier who shaped a century one impossible shot at a time ... Soldat, the stuff of nightmares for half the intelligence community ... giggled.Then he spun to look at Dum Dum and grinned.The big mustachioed ginger grinned back and thrust out a thumbs up.

“What. The. Actual. Fuck?” intoned Natasha, every inch the dreaded Black Widow.

“Wait, are you cheating on this Bucky with Soldat?” Clint asked as he studied his finger paint covered index finger. “Harsh, dude.”

He opened his mouth and started to stick out his tongue before Steve admonished, “No eating the paint, Clint!”

Clint snapped his mouth shut and shrugged.“Buzz kill.So, cheating?”

“Are ya, babe?You cheatin’, doll?” Soldat practically purred as he caught Steve around the midsection and hauled him close enough to nuzzle his hair.He had to bend down quite a lot to do so, but the look of bliss on his face was ... unsettling, to say the least. None of them had ever seen anything but his “I’m in the zone don’t bother me” look, or his resting murder face.Truth was, they rarely thought of Soldat as human.

“Wait.Soldat.Your name is James,” Sam said warily.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” Soldat agreed dreamily as he continued to breathe Steve in.

Sam repeated the name silently, then turned toward Natasha, his eyes wide in shock.She hit the same conclusion at the same time.Together, they exclaimed, “Bucky?”

Soldat broke away from his PDA and grinned.“Took ya long enough, you mooks.Now, you givin’ my boyfriend here a hard time?Cos nobody gives it to him hard but me,” he added with a leer at Steve.

“You fuckin’ goof!See if you get any after the way you set me up, asshole!”

“I thought Steve was a friend of Pepper’s,” said Natasha.

“I thought Steve was a punishment from Fury,” countered Sam.

“I thought Steve was bringing donuts,” mourned Clint.

“I thought Steve was teaching art therapy.Better get your students under control, Rogers, before I mark this session an F”, warned Dum Dum.

“I thought Steve had a loving boyfriend, not a fucking asshole who just wants a fuck buddy,” snapped Steve.

“I thought Steve had a sense of humor.And he has a loving boyfriend.I don’t want just a fuck buddy, Stevie.You know I love you,” cajoled Bucky.

“Y’know what?I can’t unsee this.The Winter Soldier is not only named ‘Bucky,’ he’s gay and in a committed relationship with the Brooklyn Spitfire here?”Sam picked up a jar of paint and poured it all onto his palm, the slapped his hands together to get the gushy mess on both of them, and then slammed them both down onto the sheets spread out in front of him.“There, happy?I did finger paints.Now I’m gonna go hit the gym.And maybe the bar after.Who’s with me?”

Nat dipped an elegant finger into her paint jar, drew a looping curlicue on her sheet, and then unearthed a tissue from somewhere to studiously clean off her finger.“Let’s stop by my flat and I’ll pick up a couple of bottles of vodka on the way.We can start drinking in the gym, it’s more efficient than waiting until we get to the bar.”

“Lemme just grab the coffee pot and I’ll be right there -“

“So, y’got an opening in your schedule, babe.Howzabout we take this back to my apartment for the rest of the day - you can finger paint me all you want.”

“Hey, the assignment was art therapy with an Avenger.He qualifies.Think Widow has any of that vodka to spare?” Dum Dum asked as he hurried toward the elevator to catch up with the others.

“God you’re an asshole.”

“Yeah, but I’m your asshole.And I’m serious about loving you. Now ... about spending the afternoon together ...”

END

**Author's Note:**

> This was a fun challenge, and I hope you enjoy the story. 
> 
> I have to give extra special props to my incredible beta, Mari_Knickerbocker. Thank you for volunteering, and thank you for being so thorough. I’m really happy with how you made this a better story!
> 
> Comments brighten my day and make the world a better place!


End file.
